


Lungs

by Mornelithe_falconsbane



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Breathplay, Corsetry, M/M, No Sex, Short, dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 11:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5003242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mornelithe_falconsbane/pseuds/Mornelithe_falconsbane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian dresses Ciel as a girl. Again.</p><p>Written for a 21 Days of Kuroshitsuji prompt: http://21-days.dreamwidth.org/3353.html?thread=272409#cmt272409</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lungs

The stitch work creaked ominously, whalebone stays as unyielding and solid as steel over his ribs. His lungs fluttered inside the cage, frantic and weak as a coal canary, and Ciel could not breathe.  
  
"I suppose that will do," Sebastian told him, the words ringing dimly in Ciel's ears. "You are young enough that this subtle curve is acceptable." His gloved hand settled on the damask silk over the artificial curve of Ciel's waist, warmth spreading through the fabric.  
  
"I--" Ciel began, and had to quit for lack of air to continue. His hands clutched at the bed post, desperately trying to steady him against the sea of dizziness. "Sebast--" Frantic puffs of air escaped his lips, his concentration narrowing down to the feel of the laces being tied in a tidy bow at the base of the corset, Sebastian's hands as sure and steady as Ciel's lungs were not.  
  
"And now to fit you into your skirts and petticoats," Sebastian said, quiet cheer filling his voice. "Let me see..."  
  
Ciel sank to his knees, head spinning, his heart pounding and tiny wheezing breaths coming from his open mouth. Spit dripped out over his lips, wet and humiliating on his chin. "Sss--eh--" He couldn't make sound. Couldn't order Sebastian to stop.  
  
"Yes, my Lord? Does something trouble you?"  
  
Ciel forced himself to look up, to meet his demon's eyes. " _Stop,"_ he hissed, his mouth numb and tingling, vision darkening as Sebastian's form eclipsed the lamplight.  
  
Sebastian dropped to his knees in front of Ciel, wrapping his hands around Ciel's waist in an unbroken circle, his fingertips and thumbs touching at Ciel's front and back. "Stop what, my Master? You must cease fussing over such minor things. The ball will soon begin."  
  
He would not die. Sebastian would not allow it. Ciel groaned, pain beginning to set in where the bone stays lay over his skin. There would be lines and bruises in the morning, Sebastian's marks left on his skin rather than his soul, for once.  
  
"I will get your petticoats, my Master. It would be inappropriate to leave you so half dressed." Sebastian's hands lingered for seconds too long--a quiet threat?  
  
Ciel gasped, his vision flooding with stars as Sebastian finally loosened the laces before he went to the wardrobe.  _Not a threat, but a promise,_  he decided, and he  _did not care_. Sebastian was a tool, and Ciel would do what he must to use him.

Fabric rustled in the wardrobe, Sebastian searching folded skirts and petticoats. He began to hum, a disjointed and strange tune.

Ciel cleaned his chin clumsily, grace deserting him. Sebastian's games--bruises and lace petticoats, silk corsets and Ciel's suffering--they were as gunpowder to a gun.

They were necessary.


End file.
